


was never looking for a friend

by ToAStranger



Series: Luster [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Multi, Pre-Slash, Werewolf Courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a dead deer on Stiles' front lawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	was never looking for a friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nezstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/gifts).



> Prompt: You're asking for it yourself. I've been forever craving a fic where both Peter and Duke are courting Stiles and fighting for his affections. Constantly one-upping each other to the point of overdoing it. I'm good with it ending with steter, stalion or open ending. Bonus point for Stiles just egging them on.

“Stiles,” his dad sighs as he stands in the doorway that leads from the kitchen to the front porch, shoulders slumped tiredly, and Stiles blinks over at his back with a frown.  "Why is there a dead deer in our walkway?“ 

Stiles’ hands stall where he was making a fresh batch of coffee, and he inhales deeply.  ”Um…” 

"Just… tell me it isn’t going to be a regular thing.  I don’t want your wolves leaving presents like this around the house.  It’s a goddamn mess to clean up.”  He says, glancing over his shoulder at Stiles, who nods a bit dumbly. 

“I’ll… I’ll talk to them about it." 

The Sheriff nods, moving back into the kitchen; he pats Stiles’ back on his way by.  ”You’re a good kid.” 

"Thanks, dad." 

"Get that mess cleaned up." 

"I will, dad." 

* * *

"Who the fuck left a dead deer on my lawn?”  Stiles demands as he bursts through the door of the loft, only to come to a slow stop at seeing Scott and Derek hovering over a map sprawled across what Stiles has so fondly dubbed the War Table.  

Scott’s brows draw together, head tilting just so.  ”There’s a dead deer on your lawn?” 

“There was.”  Stiles adds lamely.  "Animal Control came and picked it up an hour ago.“ 

"Animal Control does that?”  Scott asks. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the point.”  Stiles moves over to the table, standing across from them and frowning down at the map.  "What’s going on?“ 

"Deucalion.”  Peter replies before either Derek or Scott can, and Stiles glances his way sharply.  "He’s back in the area.“ 

“ _Why_?”  Stiles asks, brow furrowed.  

"That is the question of the day, isn’t it?”  Peter responds, eyes locked on Stiles’ face.  "Dead deer?“ 

"Yes, dead deer.  I’m assuming it wasn’t any of you.”  Stiles grumbles, crossing his arms as he looks back down at the map.  "Those all the places he’s been scented?“ 

"Yep,” Scott replies with a grim smile.  "He’s alone, though.  I don’t know what he’s up to.“ 

"I have an idea.”  Peter says from where he’s leaning in the kitchen entryway, shoulder against the jamb, looking casual as can be.  He doesn’t add anything after that. 

Stiles sighs.  ”Care to share with the class, Peter?” 

His smile is all teeth.  ”Not really.  Though, I would be interested is seeing that deer of yours.” 

Stiles looks back over at him slowly, eyes squinting, and he wonders briefly if Peter’s crazy is showing a bit more today.  Derek mutters something to Scott, the two of them focused on the plot points in front of them, ignoring the other two in the room.  Normally, Stiles might find that annoying, but his day has been fairly surreal already.  

Peter’s smile just broadens.  He pushes off the door jamb and draws close, eyes flitting over Stiles’ body in a way that reminds Stiles of years previous, standing in a parking lot and terrified out of his mind.  Now, though, it just makes Stiles stand straighter, chin tilting up.

“Let’s let them plan, shall we?”  Peter says, coming to a slow pause in front of him.  "We can dissect it later for flaws.“ 

"And we’d be doing  _what_  exactly in the mean time?” 

"Research.”  Peter replies simply.  

Stiles frowns at him, disbelief evident in the wrinkle between his brows.  But when Scott nor Derek speak up to protest, Stiles folds.  

“Yeah, okay.  Lead the way." 

* * *

 "This isn’t research." 

"How astute of you.”  Peter says as he sits across from him at the little inlet of the cafe.  "No, this is getting coffee.“ 

"I figured.  You know, what with the coffee.”  Stiles retorts, gesturing to the two mugs between them; he hesitates before taking a drink of his, and hates to find it perfectly sweetened to just his liking.  Peter’s such a creep.  "Why are we here?“ 

"We’re waiting for someone." 

"Who?" 

"You’ll see.”  Peter replies behind the rim of his own drink, eyes sparking in a way that Stiles thinks might be playful.  

It isn’t that Peter and he don’t get along.  It’s more that Stiles is smart and takes everything that Peter says and everything that Peter does with a grain of salt.  Because Peter is smart too, and incredibly ambitious, and Stiles doesn’t have time for that shit most of the time.  

It’s summer vacation, though.  He supposes he can let Peter’s manipulations slide for a little while, at least.  

When the bell chimes over the door, Stiles looks in that direction curiously.  Seeing Deucalion standing there, eyes locked on the pair of them, doesn’t really surprise him.  Though he shifts in his seat, frowning first at Peter and then over at Deucalion as he moves across the cafe towards their table. 

“Peter.”  He greets first, with the faintest bow of his head, smile small and impersonal.  

“Duke,” Peter returns the expression, though his smile only broadens when Deucalion’s drops off his face at the nickname.  "Please, pull up a chair.“ 

Stiles watches quietly for a moment, but the second the other werewolf is sat at the table with them, he speaks up with a dry tone.  ”I’m assuming Scott and Derek don’t know about this little meeting?” 

"You’d be correct in that assumption,” Peter tells him.  

“And the dead deer on my lawn?" 

"A gift.”  Deucalion states, and Stiles gaze falls on him.  "For you.“ 

Stiles’ brows climb up his forehead.  There is a moment of silence between the three of them.  

His right eye twitches; Stiles feels like he’s constantly dealing with five-year-olds who can’t take care of themselves.  Biting the inside of his cheek, he huffs out a tight breath.  

"A gift?" 

"Yes, it’s—" 

"A dead deer on my lawn is a gift?”  Stiles hisses, leaning in, and really he should have a little more self-preservation, but he’s long done being afraid of werewolves.  "Well, it’s a bad fucking gift, okay?“ 

"He’s trying to prove he can provide for you.”  Peter says idly, taking another pull from his coffee, and Stiles closes his eyes as his temples throb.  "He’s just going about it the wrong way.“ 

"Okay.   _Why_?” 

"For the same reason he’s back in town.”  Peter replies.  "Am I right?“ 

"He’s of age.”  Deucalion says, like it confirms something.  "He can make his own decisions now.“

"Yeah, he’s sitting right here.”  Stiles slumps back against his chair, shooting the both of them a tight little grin.  "What exactly am I of age for?“ 

"To be courted.”  Peter says, eyes glinting.  "There are rituals.  One of which involves proving you can provide for a… potential mate.“ 

Stiles nearly chokes on his tongue.  ”I’m sorry, the dead deer was about trying to get in my pants?” 

Deucalion’s nose wrinkles in distaste.  ”Don’t be so crude about it, Xenyck.” 

Stiles sputters and Peter growls.  ”How do you—?” 

"You will refrain from calling him by his first name unless he permits you to.”  Peter practically snarls.  "You have yet to earn that right, Deucalion.“ 

"Okay, as fun as all of this is, why are we meeting and talking about it?" 

"Because,” Deucalion reaches out to him, placing a gentle hand over Stiles’— the expression that crosses the boy’s face is comical, a cross between disbelief and annoyance.  "We need to come to terms about encroaching upon each others acts of courtship.“ 

"Each others—” Stiles’ eyes go wide and land on Peter’s delightedly bemused face.  " _Peter_?” 

“I don’t take you out for coffee for no reason, Stiles." 

"You want to have  _sex_  with me?!” 

Peter lets his eyes stray again.  ”Among other things, yes.” 

Stiles opens his mouth and then snaps it shut again, letting out a tight breath.  ”And coffee is somehow providing for me?” 

"I’ve made reservations for dinner tonight elsewhere.”  Peter assures, like Stiles was  _worried_  or something.

“This isn’t happening.”  Stiles shakes his head, pulling his hand away from Deucalion abruptly.  "This.  This totally isn’t happening.   _How_  is this happening?” 

“Please, moja láska, don’t make a scene.”  Deucalion says, and Stiles is  _livid_. 

"Why are you doing this?  Why are  _either_  of you doing this?”  Stiles asks, though he does lower his voice.  

"I’ve wanted you for a long time, Stiles.  You know that.”  Peter replies, and his expression is so earnest that Stiles feels like he missed something somewhere.  

“No.  No, you wanted me in your _p_ _ack_.  You wanted me as your  _b_ _eta_.” 

Peter shakes his head.  ”You know better than that.  I  _asked_ , Stiles.  What does that mean to you?” 

Stiles finds himself breathing a bit quicker.  His eyes stray, and he tries to find something grounding to look at.  It takes him a moment, and he grateful that neither of them try to talk to him or touch him, but eventually he calms back down.  

It isn’t a panic attack, but it had the potential to be one. 

"No more dead animals.”  Stiles insists.  "That’s a rule.  No dead animals, no murder, no sneaking into my room in the middle of the night.“ 

They both seem to perk up at that.  Deucalion is the one that speaks, though.  ”You’ll let us court you.” 

"Yeah, sure, whatever.”  Stiles huffs, crossing his arms as he leans away from the both of them.  "Doesn’t mean I’ll say yes to either of you, but I’m a growing boy and free things sound pretty spectacular.“ 

Peter laughs.  ”We’ll be sure to keep that in mind.  As well as your terms.” 

"If you end up doing something stupid, I’m allowed to make amendments and additions to the rules."  Stiles adds quickly, and they both nod.  "… I expect curly fries every Wednesday." 

"Done,” they say at the same time, and Stiles is seriously wigged out for a moment.  

“Okay.  Well… then I’m going to finish my coffee.  And then I’m going to go home and google courting rituals.  You both can leave." 

Deucalion looks hesitant for a moment, but stands.  ”I’m sorry about the deer.  I thought you would like it.” 

"A dead deer.  On my lawn.  Not exactly every teenagers' hopes and dreams.  Think more… hot cars, pizza, and unlimited video games.”  

Deucalion looks contemplative.  ”I think I can manage something.” 

Before Stiles can think to protest, the Alpha is heading for the exit as Stiles gapes after him.  Peter clears his throat, and Stiles looks back his way, eyes still wide.  He thinks he can feel a headache coming on. 

“Seven o’clock tonight.  Jeans will be alright if they’re nice.  Be sure to wear a button up.”  Peter tells him, setting a tip beneath his empty mug as he stands, eyes keen on his face.  "I’ll pick you up.“ 

He just nods slowly. 

"And Stiles,” Peter says, voice saccharinely sweet as he reaches down to curve a hand over Stiles’ jaw, tipping his head up.  "You can call this off at anytime.  You’ll find in your… research that it’s one of the most important parts of a courtship ritual.  The courtee must be in agreement at all times.“ 

"Right,” Stiles nods again.  "Awesome.“ 

Peter just grins, patting his cheek softly.  ”See you tonight.” 

Stiles watches him go.  The second the door swings shut, Stiles fumbles around for his cell phone, sending off a rapid text to Lydia.  He wonders, briefly, what exactly he’s getting himself into.  


End file.
